There’s a fascinating little corner of Jewish thought that suggests a truly different picture of those early days. It’s tucked away in the Midrash of Philo, a collection of interpretations and expansions on the Torah attributed to Philo of Alexandria, a Jewish philosopher living in Egypt around the time of Jesus.
Philo grapples with a question that probably crossed your mind at some point: Why did GOD create animals? And more specifically, why did GOD seemingly allow us to eat them?
Now, the obvious answer, the one that Philo imagines some "gluttons and insatiably greedy persons" might offer, is that meat is "necessary food for man" and that eating it "assists the belly so as to conduce to the health and vigour of the body." Makes sense, right? Protein, strength, survival...
But Philo isn’t buying it. He sees something deeper, something more profound. He posits that the relationship between humans and animals wasn't always what it is now. He paints a picture of a pre-fall world, a proto-Eden, if you will, where animals weren't food, but… allies.
Think about that for a second. Imagine a world where lions and eagles weren’t sources of fear, but rather, partners. Philo suggests that "by reason of the evil implanted in them by nature," animals are now hostile to us. But before, in the time of the "first man," they were "allies, and a reinforcement in war, and familiar friends." They were "tame and domestic by nature."
It's a beautiful, almost utopian vision. And it hinges on the idea of harmony, of a world aligned with GOD’s original intention. It suggests that the current state of affairs – the food chain, the struggle for survival – isn’t how things were meant to be.
Why this dramatic shift? Philo implies it has something to do with a change in human nature, that "the first man" was "adorned with every imaginable virtue." This elevated status, this inherent goodness, allowed for a harmonious relationship with the animal kingdom. Animals, in essence, were "servants" who could "dwell with their lord."
It raises so many questions, doesn’t it? What changed? What happened to that original harmony? And more importantly, is it possible to recapture it, even in part? Can we, in our own lives, strive for a relationship with the natural world that is less about domination and more about… well, friendship?
Philo’s midrash, this little gem of an interpretation, invites us to consider a world beyond our current reality. A world where the lion truly lies down with the lamb, and where humanity and nature exist in a state of mutual respect and even… love. It’s a powerful reminder that the world we see isn’t necessarily the only world that could be. And perhaps, just perhaps, it inspires us to work towards a world a little closer to that original vision.